


Oh Night, Divine

by theangrywarlock



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, but you can't take the revolution out of Enjolras, enjoy the mutiliation of Christmas carols, except Tom Lehrer, it's for their own good, proof that you can take Enjolras out of the revolution, who is a god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangrywarlock/pseuds/theangrywarlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. One of them coerced the others into going Christmas caroling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Night, Divine

**Author's Note:**

> Figures that the first modern AU I put up here would be this one. Oh well. Anyway, the second song is by Tom Lehrer.

There was something off, Courfeyrac realized. Something had been off for the past several houses, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He had wanted to get an early start this year around Christmas and bring up the prospect of caroling. His reasoning was to bring some joy to others less fortunate. Feuilly suggested that they shuck the singing and stick to just getting them presents. "That's what we're doing on Christmas day!") Joly and Bossuet readily agreed to help Courfeyrac out. ("Thank you, Joly, for agreeing and thank you Lesgles for doing whatever Joly decides on.") Bahorel had somewhere else to be that night. ("I didn't even tell you what night it'll be!") Jehan agreed easily as well, though on the night they were set to go out, he was spruced up to resemble a Christmas tree. ("It's festive...")

Combeferre gave him the most trouble as he looked at Courfeyrac as though he had grown another head. "Are you serious?"

"Entirely."

"Carols are the lowest forms of music. They're designed to get stuck in your head and repeat ad nauseum."

"It builds excitement for the holiday!"

"It builds up my bile."

"Please?"

Combeferre gave him a fixed look. "If Enjolras agrees."

Courfeyrac hated hearing those words. There was a reason why he tended to save Enjolras for last. He hadn't asked Grantaire yet solely because he wasn't sure what Enjolras would say. If it was a no and he asked Grantaire to join, they'd likely be parked outside of Enjolras' apartment all night. If Enjolras said yes, Grantaire would likely say no until they came around to his place.

He'd be waiting for them. Courfeyrac knew his friends so well.

So he was expecting another round of trying to convince his friend to come out into the snow and sing.

"Fine."

"Really?"

Enjolras shrugged. "You chose a good night. I'm free from responsibilities."

Courfeyrac couldn't wait to report back to Combeferre with that news.

And so on the night Courfeyrac chose, the group went around the houses in their respective neighborhoods.

So what was going wrong?

For one thing, good King Wenceslas lost his head.

Courfeyrac wasn't sure where that was in the lyrics.

And then Red Shoes somehow became Red Flag and how all one of their fathers wanted was a revolution for Christmas.

At that point, Courfeyrac was starting to grow suspicious.

"Enjolras?"

"Hm?"

"You've a wonderful voice."

Apparently that wasn't a compliment Enjolras had been expecting. "Thank you."

"You should solo this one."

Joly and Bossuet gave Courfeyrac twin looks of confusion. Jehan tilted his head, causing his tinfoil star to droop. "But isn't this Grantaire's place of residence?"

Damn. Courfeyrac looked up. Grantaire had opened up a window in eager anticipation. He waved at them.

"Yes, yes, it is." Courfeyrac turned back to Enjolras. "So maybe you can convince him to join us."

Enjolras sighed and flipped through the playbook to the next song. "Very well." He'd never had voice lessons, but it was astounding how low he could hit certain notes.

Combeferre looked at Courfeyrac for clarification of this choice. Courfeyrac just shook his head. Hopefully they'd all get their answers soon.

Enjolras, used to eyes upon him, seemed nonplussed by the attention as he began to sing.

_"Oh, Holy Night. The stars are brightly shining,_  
It is the night of our dear Republic's birth.  
Oh, Holy Night. The Delacroix's inspiring.  
It is the night with the barricades and guns.  
The Republic was born and so I get my rights back.  
Thank you, Republicans, for being born." 

Courfeyrac was very sure that their playbooks hadn't been tampered with, despite Joly going through the pages to see what the hell Enjolras was singing.

Jehan wiped a tear from his eye.

_"Fall on your knees!_  
When you hear the loudhailer shouting!  
Oh night!  
Divine!  
The night when I get my rights." 

Courfeyrac wasn't sure whether or not Feuilly had just whistled due to Enjolras' sudden booming twist sound-wise or because of the context.

_"Oh night!_  
Revolution, oh night!  
Oh, night divine!" 

"All right, I think that should be enough." Courfeyrac touched Enjolras' shoulder. "Good job."

"I'll join you!" Grantaire had abruptly burst through the door, dressed in a long coat over a few more layers. He shifted up to them. "If you permit it."

Combeferre turned to Courfeyrac as Enjolras extended his hand to Grantaire. "I don't see the problem, and I'm betting you're about to discuss it."

"Those weren't the lyrics." Courfeyrac sighed. "I don't mind a good parody or even a switch-out of words, but it ought to be in the Christmas spirit." Behind them, Grantaire embraced Enjolras into a big bear hug.

"Nothing wrong with singing about the Republic, though. Christmas and all brings joy into people's lives. The Rights of Man brings joy to him."

"But the Republic was created in the summer!"

"So was Christ. Should we sing about the Solstice instead?" Unsure when to break off the manly hug, Grantaire tried to slow dance a little with Enjolras.

"What do you have against Christmas carols anyway?" Courfeyrac asked.

"I find that their meanings are terrifying and terrible. For instance, Santa Claus is coming to town. That's tyrannical, telling kids that they better not shout, even though shouting hurts no one. They better not cry? Why ever not? It's stifling their behavior."

"And?"

"And all the songs that speak of something coming down their chimney? That's terrifying, Courfeyrac. I'm not going to glorify a creepy stalker."

This was a losing battle and Courfeyrac knew it. "Then why come out with us?"

"Because if you want the Christmas spirit, it might be best to sing something truthful."

"Such as?"

"Tom Lehrer."

New sheets were handed out, including to Enjolras and Grantaire who had managed to split apart due to Enjolras not knowing how to dance and accidentally stepping on Grantaire's foot.

Combeferre nudged Enjolras when they got to the next house. "Sing it right this time," he whispered.

Enjolras, having perfected the truly innocent look, tried to give said look to Combeferre, but Combeferre wasn't looking at him.

_"Christmas time is here, by golly,_  
Disapproval would be folly,  
Deck the halls with hunks of holly,  
Fill the cup and don't say "when."  
Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens,  
Mix the punch, drag out the dickens,  
Even though the prospect sickens,  
Brother, here we go again." 

Jehan frowned a little disapprovingly.

_"On christmas day you can't get sore,_  
Your fellow man you must adore,  
There's time to rob him all the more  
The other three hundred and sixty-four." 

Courfeyrac wondered when Combeferre had gotten so cynical. He supposed the whole thing fit, really. He wasn't too keen on the commercialization, but at this point, he was starting to wonder if they should all just go home and get warm. Maybe watch a non-holiday related movie.

_"Relations, sparing no expense'll_  
Send some useless old utensil,  
Or a matching pen and pencil.  
"just the thing I need! how nice!"  
It doesn't matter how sincere it  
Is, nor how heartfelt the spirit,  
Sentiment will not endear it,  
What's important is the price." 

Feuilly was clearly singing the loudest here, enjoying every second of it.

_"Hark the herald tribune sings,_  
Advertising wondrous things.  
God rest ye merry, merchants,  
May you make the yuletide pay.  
Angels we have heard on high  
Tell us to go out and buy!" 

They didn't get to the last verse. The door shut in their faces.

"That went well," Courfeyrac said as he shut his playbook.

"Are all the carols gonna be like that?" Grantaire asked as he flipped through it.

"If we're doing these sorts of songs," Joly piped in, "how about Christmas at Ground Zero by Weird Al?"

"Or Christmas in Heaven from Monty Python," Bossuet added.

Combeferre looked at Courfeyrac with a slight grin. "So we may not be doing anything traditional. At least they're having fun. And you'll have something to rub in Bahorel's face when we see him again."

Courfeyrac let out a sound that resembled a half-laugh, half-scoff. "We should track him down. Enjolras, do you know Three Ships Come Sailing In?"

"Yes. They brought reinforcements."

"Fair enough. We'll start off with that one as we track down Bahorel." He clasped Combeferre around the shoulders and pulled him in for a half-hug. "Thank you."

"Anytime. Though I did forget to mention one other reason why this isn't exactly my favorite thing to do."

"And what's that?"

"I'm Jewish."


End file.
